A Nest of Spies

  XXVIII

  AT "THE CRYING CALF"

  "What's your drink?"

  "What's your offer?"

  Hogshead Geoffrey, also nicknamed "The Barrel," thumped the table witha formidable fist, at the risk of upsetting a pile of saucers, which,at this advanced hour of the evening, showed clearly how he had spentthe hours passed in the wine-shop.

  "What do I offer?" he retorted. "I offer what's wanted. I don'thaggle. When I ask a fellow: 'Old man, what do you want to wet yourgullet?' that means: 'Choose.' There now!"

  Hogshead Geoffrey's companion merely said:

  "Pass the programme!"

  Once in possession of the wine-list--if such could be called thecrumpled, dirty paper on which the owner of the house had scribbled inpencil the fresh drinks, composed of indescribable mixtures speciallyrecommended to his clients--the guest of Hogshead Geoffrey becameabsorbed in the list of strange beverages.

  So mean-looking an individual was this guest that he had beennicknamed "The Scrub." He also answered to the more aristocratic titleof "Sacristan." Once he had been sacristan at the church ofSaint-Sulpice, but intemperate habits had led to his dismissal. Whatodd link there was between this sorry little fellow and the robustGeoffrey?[7]

  [Footnote 7: See _Fantomas_: vol. i, Fantomas Series]

  The Scrub ordered: "A thick 'un--jolly thick!" He eyed his host.

  "What's been your lay? I haven't clapped eyes on you for days!"

  Hogshead Geoffrey emptied his glass at one go. Leaning his headagainst the wall, his fists on the table, his legs stretched out, hestared at the ceiling.

  The atmosphere of this den in the rue Monge was poisonous with theodours of stale wine and rank tobacco. The musty air was thick, theshop was ill-lighted by one jet of gas in the centre of the room.

  "Well, old Scrub," said Geoffrey at last. "You haven't seen me becauseyou haven't!... You remember I passed the Markets' test and wasnominated market porter?"

  "Jolly well I do!... We had a famous drinking bout that time!"

  "That's so, Scrub!... And my sister Bobinette paid the piper!... Youremember I was rejected?... Well, I got into the Markets all thesame!... Then--one fine day I gave a tallykeeper a regularknock-down-and-outer!"

  "You did?"

  "Just didn't I?... I gave him such a oner--just like this!"...

  Lifting his enormous hairy fist, Hogshead Geoffrey brought it down onthe table with disastrous results: the ancient worm-eaten board wassplit from end to end!

  Flattering remarks were showered on this colossus from all sides.

  "Ho! ho! Nothing can resist me!" shouted Hogshead Geoffrey.... "Giveme anything you choose!... Every table in the room! No matter what!I'll break it in two--man or woman! Wood or stone!... It's all one tome!"

  True or not, Hogshead Geoffrey, when not too much in liquor, was agentle soul, a simple, kind creature; quick-tempered, kind-hearted.Liable to sudden gusts of anger, he was equally capable of knockingthe life out of a comrade with his gigantic fist or of comforting somesniveling street urchin crossing his path.

  Well did the Scrub know it. He too was a contradictory mixture. Thismean little human specimen had been newsboy, seller of post cards,opener of cab doors, Jack of any little trade, the companion ofpickpockets and other light-fingered gentry, also adored the goodmanners of bygone vestry days, the polished phrases, the benedictorygestures!

  When in hospital, chance had given him Hogshead Geoffrey forbed-neighbour. It did not take him long to realise that he would bethe gainer by a friendship with this kindly giant: it would be apartnership of brain and muscle.... The Scrub commanded: Geoffreyexecuted.

  When the admiration for his prowess had died down, Hogshead Geoffreycontinued his story:

  "When I had given the chief the knock-out, the next day they gave methe order of the boot, if you would believe me!... I was properly downand out! I hadn't saved a sou--was in debt right and left, to thewine-shops--was all but run in!"...

  "What did you do?" enquired the Scrub.

  "Bobinette helped me."

  "Your sister?"

  "Oh, she's a sharp one!... She's studied, too!... She did the bandagesat Lariboise!... She had the sous!... I told her my troubles!... Shelet me have the dibs, so I could hang on!"

  "Until you got a billet at _The Big Tun_?"

  "No!... Bobine said: 'Here's gold, little brother! It's all I have ...don't come for more!... You must find a way out of the mess!'"

  "And you did?... How?"

  Hogshead Geoffrey hesitated: he sipped his absinthe.

  "Oh ... well ... I found a way out."...

  "How? I ask you."...

  "I tell you I managed all right! And then I got my job at _The BigTun_."

  "Where you are now?"

  "Where I am."

  "You paid back your sister?"

  Hogshead Geoffrey roared with laughter.

  "I paid her back so little that I didn't know what had become ofher!... She had turned her back on Lariboise without leaving anaddress.... Thought she must have kicked the bucket!... I would havebeen sorry for that!... She's a good sort!... But yesterday I had wordfrom her.... Bobinette asked me to meet her."...

  "You told her to come here?"

  "Sure!"

  "And how did she know your address?"

  Hogshead Geoffrey scratched his big head.

  "Lordy! I don't know!... Probably she saw my name quoted the other dayin the _Petit Journal_, among the conquerors in the Who's StrongestCompetition. She wrote putting the number of my old shanty, rue de laHarpe!... No good being astonished at what she does!... I tell you shehas education--she has!"...

  It was half an hour after midnight. The owner of _The Crying Calf_shouted in a stentorian voice:

  "Now, boys! It's only seven sous drinks now!"

  It was the accustomed warning, taken as a matter of course.

  Protesting in a squeaky voice that his constitution was weakly, thathis doctor had ordered him not to sit up late, the Scrub, who feared ameeting with Bobinette, knowing she had little liking for him, nowtook himself off.

  Geoffrey ordered two drinks. He was bored. Bobinette was behind herpromised time. He would have left, but Bobinette would pay for hisdrinks--a nice little total!

  At last she appeared: an out-of-breath Bobinette, and somewhatflustered.

  She was quietly dressed--almost shabby. This was no place for one ofthe elegant toilettes affected by Mademoiselle de Naarboveck'scompanion!... After her Rouen journey, after her meeting withLieutenant de Loubersac in the train, she had thought it wiser not togo back to the baron's house. She had written to say she was ill. Thenshe had taken refuge in a quiet little inn in la Chapelleneighbourhood, there to await events.

  Vagualame's arrest had made a terrible impression on her.... Vagualamehad not betrayed her; but she sensed snares, pitfalls all about her:she might be trapped any minute: she must disappear! After Vagualame'sarrest she had had but one idea: to get rid of the gun piece, hand itto the foreign power, and receive the promised reward.... When,instead of Corporal Vinson, whom she had summoned in accordance withher orders, she had perceived Fandor, she was puzzled, suspicious.

  If Bobinette went to the meeting place in her own undisguised person,and met Fandor as Fandor, it was because she had had the same idea asthe journalist.

  "I will walk through the arcades as Bobinette, and I shall see ifCorporal Vinson is there, or if, by chance, he is not alone!"

  That same day at Rouen she had had a bad shock. The telegram she hadreceived at the garage was from Vagualame!... How could an arrestedVagualame send her a telegram, and such a telegram?

  This telegram, in their usual cypher, informed her that at all costs,and at once, she must separate herself from Corporal Vinson, who wasnot the real Vinson, but a counter-spy!... Bobinette all but faintedfrom fright.... She must escape from this counter-spy!... Yet, owingto the false Vinson's insistence, she had been forced to share hisroom!... He did not mean to let her out of his sight, that wasplai
n!...

  No sooner had the false Vinson gone down to the car in the morningthan Bobinette had slipped off, hot foot for Rouen. The gun piece wasleft behind! The chauffeur would bear the brunt of that, thoughtBobinette, as she sped on her way. Later, she read of his arrest andrelease.

  Her meeting with Lieutenant de Loubersac and the sight of the falseVinson's arrest at the Saint Lazare station showed the terrified girlthat things had gone mysteriously, hopelessly wrong!...

  Without resources, Bobinette had pawned her few jewels. Then a letterfrom Vagualame had reached her. She had obeyed the instructions itcontained.... That he had learned her address did not surprise her:she knew he never lost track of those it was to his interest to keepan eye on.

  Before Vagualame's note reached her she had been worried and bored.

  "I must make sure of shelter and protection if needs be," shereflected: "I will look up Geoffrey. We will meet at _The CryingCalf_, it is safe there!"

  "Sit you down here, little Bobine!" suggested Hogshead Geoffrey...."And now, what will you take?"

  Bobinette ordered a gooseberry syrup.

  "Quite the lady's drink," remarked mine host of the wine-shop with ahumorous air.

  Brother and sister exchanged confidences.... The good Geoffrey told ofhis fight, of situations obtained and lost, of fisticuff encounters,of quarrels and blows.... Bobinette went so far as to say that she wasvery happy, very much at her ease.

  "Just imagine," said she: "I am companion to an old lady, a Russian,who in her time has had trouble with the police of her country, Ithink."

  "The police? I don't like the police!" interrupted her brother.

  "Who does?" ejaculated Bobinette. "Lots of people come to her house. Igo to all the dinners, all the parties!"

  "Ah, then, you'll foot the bill, Bobine, if you have such a richsituation?"

  "I will pay, Geoffrey," said Bobinette: "This old lady, I think."...Bobinette stopped. She went white as a sheet.... An old man had justentered the wine-shop. His steps were uncertain, his back was bentunder the weight of an old accordion.

  It was Vagualame....